Topic 25: Meet PHIL CATALFO

Our next guest is PHIL CATALFO (philcat@well.com), an editor at Yoga Journal
and the author of "Raising Spiritual Children in a Material World" (Berkley
Books, 1997).
The ideas set forth in "Raising Spiritual Children" were put to a horrible
test over the last seven years, as Phil's middle kid, Gabe, struggled with
leukemia - a battle he "lost" on November 4. Phil and Gabe are heroes in the
WELL community, where Phil documented every step of the physical, medical and
spiritual journey from diagnosis to memorial service and beyond in a series
of topics in the parenting conference (salso linked to the health
conference).
I, and many others, have been encouraging Phil to publish that journal. I
encourage our web visitors to join the WELL and read the story in place, with
all the dialogue that accompanies Phil's account. There have been some amaz-
ing life experiences told in the WELL's almost 14 years of existence, but few
stories in any medium have the power of Gabe's.
I will confess that I haven't yet finished reading "Raising Spiritual
Children in a Material World" (subtitle: "Introducing Spirituality into
Family Life"), so let's begin by saying Hey to Phil Catalfo and asking him to
tell us a little about himself and the book.

Heynow! Glad to be here! (Gary, you can find the nearly-eight-year-long
chronicle of Gabe's illness in a series of topics titled "Leukemia,"
"Leukemia, Part II," etc., up through the current "...Part IX" (I think).
All but the current one are "frozen," but all are readable from The WELL;
they're all linked between the Parenting conference and the Health
conference.)
Before I say a little bit about myself (something I've *never* been able to
do, i.e., a *little* bit...), I'd just like to offer a comment about The
State of Affairs in the larger culture. Today I went merrily about visiting
numerous local business establishments in my town (Berkeley), doing some
low-key Christmas shopping; and in the course of my errands I visited
several independent booksellers. At both stores I learned that the current
year has been a very, very difficult one, financially. Today's mail also
brought word from a third local independent bookseller, that they will
*close their doors* by Valentine's Day unless they find a buyer soon. Two of
these store have been lifelines for booklovers in Berkeley (and beyond) for
thirty to forty years (or more); the third, for at least a decade. Close to
a hundred years of service to the community among them. All three stores are
getting whomped by the big bookstore chains, and of course the online
bookselling enterprises. I don't want to launch a big harangue here; I just
want to remind us that we really don't want to live in a world in which
there are no local, independent booksellers. And urge us to spend some of
those holiday-shopping dollars at such establishments. I say this even
knowing that my future success as an author is in large measure dependent on
the extent to which the chains buy my books and keep them in stock. I'm
happy for them to do that, of course; but I also want there to be smaller,
more idiosyncratic stores stocking my books--and millions of others--and
keeping local literary culture alive.
I suppose it's stretching things a little--but only a little--to say that
The WELL is the counterpart to the "local, independent bookseller" in the
vast online universe. I won't belabor that metaphor, but I will say that I
have yet to encounter another online "place" where I might have just as
easily offered and continued the ongoing chronicle of my family's ordeal
with Gabe's illness and death--or as easily found so much support from my
peers. For the place to do and find that, and for the countless others who
encouraged me all along the way, I will always be grateful.
In the first six months or so after Gabe was initially diagnosed, my wife
Michelle and I found ourselves tested spiritually like never before. That's
not surprising, but what ultimately led to my doing this book was the
growing realization, after many conversations with peers and colleagues,
that many, many other contemporary parents were struggling to devise an
authentic spirituality for themselves and their families. In our case, the
ever-present threat to our son's survival led us to pray with new fervor, to
seek some source of comfort and hope in whatever we considered to be the
driving force of the universe, and to find resources within ourselves to
enable us to persevere. Every family (as every individual) has its own set
of imperatives which drive its spiritual journey, and so for others it was
not a life-threatening illness but some other difficulty, or calling, or
question, or mystical yearning. In the course of RAISING SPIRITUAL CHILDREN
IN A MATERIAL WORLD I profile a number of families from around the country,
of varying spiritual paths, in an effort to show something of the diversity
and multiplicity of the journey. I'm a big believer in the old aphorism,
"One truth, many paths."
A little bit more about how the book came to be: I was talking with my dear
friend Peggy Taylor, who was then the editor of New Age Journal (which she
founded with her then-husband, Eric Utne, back in about 1974), sometime in
1991, a few months after Gabe was diagnosed. I was telling her about some of
my/our experiences, with prayer, with faith, with doubt, with fear, and how
I found it was deepening my spiritual self, without leading me to "return"
to the Catholicism of my youth. This got us onto a larger discussion about
spirituality in the contemporary spirituality. At one point she said, "You
know, we could do a reader survey. Why don't you draft a questionnaire?" So
I did, and we ran it in late 1991, and we got over 350 responses--heartfelt,
profuse, impassioned responses. I went through all of them and selected a
few families from around the country, whom I called and interviewed. Those
families and a couple of others wound up being profiled in a followup
article in NAJ--and, at much greater length, in my book.
The book also tells a fair bit about my own (and my family's) spiritual
odyssey (although a great deal transpired after the book was published,
including Gabe's first bone marrow relapse, his subsequent bone marrow
transplant, recovery from that, a second marrow relapse, and his eventual
death). And I also offer my own take on the kind of attributes we need to
nurture and foster in our children if they are to be able to function
sensibly and healthily in the 21st century.
I think I'll leave it at that for now and see what kind of questions or
comments come up before posting more.
Happy Holidays, everyone, and thanks for having me here!
xoxo--P.C.

Hi there, gang, and sorry it's taken me so long to make it back here. I kind
of drifted for a few days there. But now I'm ready to keep Being Here Now.
Let me answer Sharon's question first, because I think it's simpler. First
of all, the short answer is "None," in the sense that I haven't really
worked out any changes or additions I'd make (even factoring in the fact
that I haven't pored over the book with an eye toward that). But I'm not
sure I'd really want to *change* anything; the things I wrote about Gabe's
illness, and our struggle with it, are still true. I can see perhaps adding
an Epilog, an Afterword or Foreword, something like that, if the book is
ever revised. But the structure and thrust of the book has an integrity that
I don't think I want to mess with.
Now then, as for David's question: Beats the heck out of me!

Okay, I've had my little joke. Now then, all seriousness aside (!), there
are several things I'd like to say, so...make yourselves comfortable.
To begin with, I'd like to point out that there are at least two shades of
meaning in the phrase, "Raising Spiritual Children in a Material World." On
the one hand, it speaks to the concern of modern parents that they find a
way to instill a sense of the spiritual, the ethical, the eternal, in their
children--in the face of the withering onslaught of modern culture, which
wants to turn every newborn babe into an indiscriminate consumer and, what's
more, wants to desacralize every facet of modern life. This challenge is
perhaps never more pointed than in the current season, when advertising and
peer pressure incline kids to want more and better goodies and the whole
body politic seems fixated on buying and selling and gift-giving and
-wrapping as though they were the sina qua non of The Good Life. I have to
admit this has often been a problem at our house, in that my attempts to
introduce another dimension to Christmas--some time spent reflecting on the
spiritual lessons behind the Christmas story (i.e., the life of Christ) and
the traditional imperative to care for those less fortunate than ourselves
--have usually not been especially well-received by my kids. And even at
other times of the year, I find it difficult to cultivate my kids' ability
to scrutinize pop culture as it is marketed to them and their peers. But I
also know that they need to make their own choices, and the most I can do is
let them know what I think is important; and in the last analysis it is very
clear to me that my kids are wonderful people, so my wife and I must have
managed to get something good across to them.
The other aspect of the phrase is perhaps more subtle. As I discuss in the
book, I don't believe that the answer to the pervasive entreaties of the
material world is to secede from it. Rather, I think the task before us--as
spiritual seekers *and* as parents--is to find ways to pursue our
spirituality "in" the material world, i.e., in the world of jobs and schools
and neighborhoods and youth sports and so on. By that, I don't mean that we
should erase the boundaries between church and state; far from it. What I
mean is that we should be learning and practicing our spiritual lessons
wherever we go, and bringing whatever growth we accrue from those lessons
into the "material world." That world is not "impure" or controlled by the
devil. It is *our* world, and more to the point, it is the world our
children will be living in for the rest of our lives. I don't want to see
the Church dictating school curricula. But I do want my kids to do their
best to achieve highest perfect enlightenment in the context of the public-
school education they're receiving, in the context of voting in elections,
of choosing and pursuing their careers, and so on.
Okay. Now that I've settled (?) that, let me say a bit more about how, in
the World According to Philcat, one goes about raising spiritual kids in a
material world.
Well, tell you what. Let me say that in the next reponse.

All this is discussed at greater length (and with awesome aplomb), of
course, in my book, but let me just continue while my keyboard is warm.
I believe that every parent has to begin taking on this challenge by
becoming truly engaged with his or her own spiritual process. Many parents
today find themselves "returning" to church or temple or some kind of
religious practice *because* they have found these wondrous creatures called
children bouncing in their laps, and they--the parents--feel an "obligation"
or "responsibility" to "bring them up right," to "give them a solid
foundation," to provide their kids with religious education. That is, of
course, a good and upstanding thing to do, and I would never try to
discourage any parent from doing it.
But, I suggest, it can be a way of putting the cart before the horse, if one
chooses a denomination or congregation for the sake of having "something"
just to have something. Far better, I think, for parents to take the time--
before or after becoming parents; whenever you feel the need--to suss out
for themselve what their own spiritual needs and, especially, beliefs, are.
Ultimately, clarity on that score will predicate the direction the family
should take--the congregation it should join, if any; the rituals practiced
at home; the stories and scriptures and other elements passed down through
the generations; and so on.
Be aware that this is a lifelong process! This is not something one can or
should expect to get fast answers to and, having gotten answers, never
having to wonder about again.
Once that process is working, I encourage parents to begin with their
children by viewing them not as empty vessels into which one must pour
information or belief systems, but as individual souls on individual
journeys--journeys with integrity and imperatives that cannot and should not
be forced to satisfy others' agendas. And the way to get in touch with that
is very simple: Talk with them. Let them know, gently and with an
appreciation of the ever-unfolding mystery into which we all our born, how
you see the world, and how you think it's put together; but also ask them
what they think. Invite them to draw pictures, tell you stories, share their
dreams, ask their questions. You'll be amazed, and grateful. And you'll
learn a lot about what they need from you in the way of spiritual guidance
and encouragement.
Important tip on this point: START EARLY. Ask me how I know.
I'm gonna have to cut this short right now, but I'll try to check back in
later today or tomorrow to continue.
xoxo--P.C.

Phil, thanks for pointing me to the archives of what your family went thru
as shared with this virtual community of Well. I needn't tell you how
awesome it is, and how grateful it makes people to be able to share it with
you and other respondents.
At some point, if you can juggle the questions coming at you, I'd be
interested to hear your "take" on whether there might be any core practices,
such as thanks for the food, hugs on coming home, etc.
Meanwhile, as to starting early with family practice -- do tell more ...

I feel a growing drive to find ways of taking back the public discourse from
the crass exploiters and the spiritual opportunists. It's damn hard to do it,
since all organized movements seem doomed to corruption. But people who feel
safe and whole are much less susceptible to the blandishments of both
material and spiritual hucksterism.
I guess there isn't a question there, but an observation. What do you
think?

Phil, I find your writing riveting as always. Like everyone else on the
Well, I've been following your life for the past several years, so many
times crying my eyes out with sympathy and empathy and amazement at your
courage. You are a gift to the Well.

It's great that families and children are such powerful agents in
encouraging people to discover an access to "spirituality" in their lives.
quotes only because it's such a moving target...
I am always hopeful that people can become interested in that stuff when
children and families are not the reason.
And glad when they do. Because although it's marvelous to have a reason to
care about such things, it's also marvelous to care about such things as a
matter of course, without a reason.
At the moment, I am the child I am trying to raise with "right values" in
this material world....
Just also want to thank Phil for his extraordinary generosity.
It's a true inspiration.

Thanks, all, for your kind words.
David, I've been thinking for two days now about your obervation(s). There's
much food for thought there. We could talk for hours just on the points your
raise--"material and spiritual hucksterism" and "all organized movements
[seeming to be] dooomed to corruption." Let me just take a few stabs at
comment.
For me, it boils down to the Buddha's exhortation, just before dying, that
we "work out your own salvation with diligence." One of the great pitfalls
of religion is worrying overmuch about other people's spiritual destiny.
(When that impulse is relatively benign, we call it proselytizing; when it
goes over the line, it's exploitation, subjugation, conquest.) By "overmuch"
I mean leaving insufficient attention to one's *own* spiritual path and
imperatives. More than once I've found myself speculating that if we just
worried more about our own faults and need for growth--our karma, if you
will--the world would be a far simpler and less acrimonious place. This is
not, however, an easy proposition; I know that every time I watch Pat
Robertson on "The 700 Club," I'm about ready to commit evangelicide. Not
that one shouldn't strive to, as you put it so well, "find ways of taking
back the public discourse from the crass exploiters and spiritual
opportunists," but I find I get my dander up so bad that I need to calm
myself and not get into playing mind games with someone who, after all, has
control of his own media empire, against which my own railings are likely to
be ineffectual. More effectual and worthwhile, I think, is for me to
concentrate on pursuing my own authentic spiritual path and becoming the
wisest, most compassionate person I can be. More buddhalike behavior in this
world would probably be a better antidote to Robertsoniana than, well, than
an apoplectic philcat would be, anyway.
Another aspect of this which we'd do well to consider is: *why* do people
submit to hucksters and exploiters? I talk about this some in my book, and I
think it's a very important question. I believe that many people are both
desperate and famished, and exhausted to boot: they find the burden of
constructing an ethical, spiritually-rewarding life so difficult, so
perplexing, in today's world that they effectively say, "I can't handle it.
I can't figure this out on my own. *Just tell me what to do*. Assure me that
if I do what you tell me I'll be okay, and I'll do *whatever* you tell me."
You can see this in the followers of a wide range of spiritual teachers and
leaders; very few such figures tell their students/followers, "Don't take my
word for it; figure it out for yourself." Doesn't matter if we're talking
about the radical right or the crystal wavers or the survivalists or
whatever. The ideologies, the doctrines, such as they are, are mere details
compared to the psychological dynamic at work.
Anyway, this wouldn't be happening as pervasively or dramatically, I don't
think, if our culture were not so corrosive to the soul. If people had the
sense that one was likely to lead a rewarding, meaningful life by adhering
to the mainstream conventions of the culture, they would not be fleeing to
the arms of these hucksters. And if I'm right, then the way to counteract
that is to create meaning and purpose in our lives--in our families, in our
neighborhoods, in our communities. Which starts with oneself. Having made
some headway there, one then stands a more reasonable chance of making some
headway on the taking-back-the-public-discourse front.

I've always felt that we shifted in the late '70s, after a decade
of expansive idealism and naturalism failed to live up to its
imagined potential, to an era of skepticism and pragmatism. We're
still in the grips of that pragmatism -- even with respect to
our spiritual lives. "Show me some magic that changes my
life. I want something I can see now! Don't give me more theories
about how faith and good will can gradually change the future. I don't
see it happening."
This attitude-shift isn't completely unreasonable in light of the
increasing economic pressure on people's lives and demonstrable
inability of idealistic rhetoric to improve material quality
of life.
But as ancillary fallout, it feels like popular ideas about
"things that don't get lost" have shifted along with preferences
for "strategies that succeed." The quick fix is in, for spiritual
contentment as well as for material achievement.

I remember reading a book called 'Ordinary People as Monks and Mystics,' or
a title close to that. The title may have been the best part, because it
made me look more closely at those I encountered who were living their lives
that way. I had known a few already, including a couple of very elderly
Quaker ladies I knew from India, some people from the Civil Rights Movement,
and a very few encountered in the daily grind.
The thing that I found most drawn to, in every one of the cases I could
identify of this sort, was the absolute lack of 'pressure,' with a special
use of that term. These were all people who didn't try to draw you to what
they did, and they certainly didn't try to push you away--they just kept
doing what they did, in their everyday life, in such a way that everyone who
encountered them could catch on that it was worthwhile.
This is behavior I lack language to express clearly (clearly!). Other people
have either made similar observations of people who were spiritually
centered (to use an old Quaker term that has been part of the general
discourse on mindfulness).
There's an old quote that used to be posted in the Chapel of the
Venerable Bede:
"Why were the saints saints? Because they were cheerful when it was
difficult to be cheerful, patient when it was difficult to
be patient; and because they pushed on when they wanted to stand still,
and kept silent whenthey wanted to talk, and were agreeable when they
wanted to be disagreeable. That was all. It was quite simple
and always will be."
I know that's not all, because one could be all of those things and still
be a horrible person, in one's ultimate intention. So it has be conjoined
with some form of right-mindfulness, as the Buddha said.
The other strain that is similar is the one that comes out of the
Eckhartian injunction: Make of your life a moving meditation. Seen in
the "when you are washing dishes, really wash dishes" tradition of
Eastern focus on the singleness of existence, it helps pull a lot
of the world's more organized ways of looking at this closer together.
With all of that in mind, trying to do it as a parent, and trying to
convey it without always being in full-blown didactic mode, is one of the
most daunting challenges I know. If you know that the real saints around
you communicate by action, not by words, can you do that, and only that,
and be comfortable knowing your child will see, learn, incorporate? If
you spend your time worrying about that, are you really focusing on the
things you should be mindful of, "your own salvation"? For "you" in the
above, it's "me," because I am really describing my own concern (as the
father of a 12-year-old).

I saw a tv movie once called "Body and Soul." It's about a nun who, for
various reasons, has to go out into the business world - to leave the
convent for the first time since she was a youngster. The first time, she
gets on the train in her habit, and people behave toward her in the way that
is set up by her outfit - they know she's a nun, there's the reasonable
expectation that she's in a more meditative "space," and that's ok, like she
is in some separate spiritual island defined by her costume.
The next time, she has to wear street clothes. And of course, she no longer
has the protective island that her habit afforded. So for the first time she
is in the same world as everyone else. But SHE hasn't changed, she's still
in that same meditative world but now - well people don't know it. And her
behavior strikes people as a little eccentric.
This resonated for me tremendously. We don't much accept "spirituality" in
street clothes, do we? But in a way, that's the bigger challenge - how to go
about our integrated lives in a way which incorporates, even encourages,
reflection and observation and connection. Without departing from the world,
without retreating from it.
I heard a talk recently by Peter Coyote and he addressed this a little bit -
how we have not necessarily had all the right ideas, and maybe our behavior
has been less than enlightened, but that we have been living our lives BASED
ON the notion that there is community, that there is connection, and that we
want to live, that we stake our lives in fact on living, in a way that
acknowledges a spiritual, connected basis. One halting step at a time.
(ps he said the online communities are the next major deal in this, can't
help but agree, hee hee.)

>We don't much accept "spirituality" in street clothes, do we?
For sure. People who affect too much of that sort of thing come off as
flakes in the mainstream world, I think.
But in a way, people who are too overtly "spiritual" on the street are call-
ing attention to themselves, in a way that runs afoul of what both Alex and
Phil are talking about here.
When I was a kid I had the gloriously beneficial experience of a guided
psychedelic trip, on Christmas Eve of 1970 (or maybe it was 1971). My best
pal's hippie uncle, my best pal, and my brother all pretended to dose with
me, but instead they stayed earthbound and directed me on a wonderful trip to
the edge of the universe. Uncle David was a veteran of many movements, an
astrologer, theater guy, etc., and he had a lot of colorful things to tell me
about eternity, enlightenment, etc. What it all came down to at the end was,
of course, "Chop wood, carry water," or as Alex put it, "_really_ wash
dishes." It took me a very long time to calm down and center myself so I
could actually practice all that, but I think I do a reasonably good job of
mindfulness and Being Here Now, considering my utterly suburban, unreligious
upbringing and other factors that wouldn't tend to point me toward the light.
What Phil posted in <16> brings to mind a song lyrics of mine, which I will
presume to post here:
SOVEREIGN SOUL
I'm a sovereign soul
And my freedom is something I mean to enjoy
I'm a sovereign soul
My time and attention are mine to deploy
I'm a sovereign soul
And I was not created by anyone's God
So I won't go inferno for breaking his laws
I'm a sovereign soul
And I speak for myself and I do as I please
And I care for my neighbor come famine or freeze
I'm a sovereign soul
I'm a sovereign soul
I know who my friends are and what's worth the time
And I won't kiss your ass unless you're kissing mine
I'm a sovereign soul
I thought I was dead but I came back to life
I'm sticking with this world and taking a wife
She's a sovereign soul
I'm a sovereign soul
We are sovereign souls
I'm a sovereign soul
And I do what I can to make sense of it all
And I keep myself ready to answer the call
I'm a sovereign soul
And I own my own words and I think for myself
And there's more to this life than creation of wealth
I'm a sovereign soul
And I honor my word and I pay off my debts
And I tell you my story so I don't forget
I'm a sovereign soul
We are sovereign souls
you are a sovereign soul
(Copyright 1995 by David Gans)

David, would you call yourself a sovereign soul?
When I hear the word spiritual I reach for my gun. But I will put my gun
down if someone will tell me what it means. Does it mean religious?
Believing in things unseen? Or what?
I'm always trying to figure out what's true and how to live. Is that
spiritual?

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